Properly
by MillionMoments
Summary: A sequel to Succession
1. The Ring

Title: Properly

Rating: G/K+

Category: Romance, Richard/Camille, established relationship

Summary: A sequel to Succession

A/N: Follows on from Succession. Don't think you necessarily have to have read it, but some things will puzzle you if you haven't. Sincere thanks to katedf who read this when I was convinced it was rubbish, and gave me encouragement.

Chapter one: The Ring

* * *

From Succession:

"_Are you asking me to marry you?" She asked incredulously._

"_NO!" he very nearly shouted. "Why would you think that?!"_

"_Well, because wouldn't that be the only way for me to become a Duchess?" Camille questioned. She really hadn't been expecting this when she'd decided to come say hello to her mother. _

"_Well, maybe I just meant in general!" Richard glared at her, annoyed she'd jumped to marriage of all things. "And just for your information, if I was going to propose to you I would do it properly!"_

* * *

The first thing he did, when he decided he was definitely going to do it, was make a checklist. Richard Poole was a checklist kind of person. Crossing things off made him feel like he was achieving something, and he knew it would also help keep him somewhat calm about the whole mission. He also considered giving the entire project an operational name, but decided that was a bit excessive and if Camille found out she might use it as evidence to get him sectioned. Thus Richard stuck with just the checklist, which he kept hidden rolled up in a pair of thick socks that he would never, ever need on Saint Marie. He was presuming Camille had no desire to go through his sock draw either, though she had one weekend sorted through his entire wardrobe, and he'd been forced to rescue several items from the bin pile when she wasn't looking.

Step one: the ring. First question: how to figure out her ring size? He approached a reputable jeweller, who told him to bring in a ring that he knew fit her, but she didn't really wear rings. Surely there were other ways he could measure her finger size? Checking the internet to see if other men in his situation had shared there solutions, he hit upon a method he thought might just work. Three mornings in a row, he attempted to wrap a piece of cardboard around her finger whist she was still sleeping. That plan failed completely, when Camille proved just what a light sleeper she was. The first morning, she woke as he was climbing out of bed to fetch the cardboard and pen. Learning from this, he left them in the draw of his bedside cabinet, but she woke when he opened the damn draw. Finally, he slept with the cardboard under his pillow, but (and it didn't really surprise him) she woke when he lifted her hand.

Wracking his brain, Richard came up with an alternative, somewhat elaborate plan that involved borrowing Rosie (Fidel didn't mind a free babysitter) and the girl's own collection of bulky plastic bracelets, rings and necklaces – as well as Catherine's assortment of costume jewellery. Rosie's eyes lit up when she realised she was allowed to play with this, and naturally proceeded to put on as much as she could, giving the same treatment to Camille (and to a certain extent, himself). With careful observation born out of years as a detective, he memorised which ring did seem to fit and slipped it into his pocket.

Pleased with himself, he presented the ring and was informed of the correct ring size (An O, whatever that meant). When asked what style engagement ring he wanted, he shrugged and said "Uh, something with a diamond?"

"Ok, so what kind of cut and shape?" The young woman behind the counter asked. When Richard looked at her blankly, she attempted to prompt him, "Round? Oval? Princess?"

Richard had no clue, and said as much. He turned down the offer of an explanation from the assistant for now, instead opting for his normal method of answering questions – incessant research. He found something called "A Practical Guide to Diamond Evaluation" on Amazon, which he though sounded ideal as he was, at least according to Camille, a devastatingly practical person. Though after finishing the book it he felt he could probably assess diamonds professionally, it hadn't helped him decide about the ring in any way at all. He holed himself up the library one afternoon when he discovered they had a book about famous diamonds. He tried not to sigh too loudly at how many famous diamonds were apparently 'cursed'. He supposed he was hoping one would have a remarkably romantic story attached to it, that he could use to justify his ring choice. But like its predecessor, this book also failed to categorically inform him what kind of diamond Camille would like best in a ring, and he realised it was quite likely no amount of research would answer that question. He had a choice: he could go with the most popular choice, or pick something on instinct. Richard was well aware that when it came to women, his instincts were not exactly the best. So, round brilliant cut it was.

He announced this to the same, clearly very patient, assistant. When she removed two enormous trays his face fell, then he suddenly remembered his other specification, "Oh and it has to be a conflict free diamond!"

"All of our diamonds are sourced from Canada, Sir," she explained patiently. Looked like that request wasn't narrowing his options down then. His face must have shown his distress, as she asked somewhat kindly, "Perhaps Sir has a preference on the type of gold or other metal used in the band?"

No, no he didn't, but then an idea occurred to him and he asked brightly, "Got any made of palladium?"

She blinked in surprise, Richard felt he should learn the poor girl's name, given this was his third visit and unlikely to be the last, "Well, not pure palladium. Some of our white gold bands maybe using palladium as part of the alloy, but I'd have to check with the manufacturers, and it could take some time."

"That's ok!" He reassured her, determined to carry through on his idea now he'd had it. The problem was, he had recently become obsessed by the idea that Camille would want to know exactly _why _he bought the ring he did, and was terrified if he didn't have some romantic explanation for every aspect of its design she'd say no. "I can come back next week."

Over the next week, he interviewed Fidel about his proposal to Juliet, and if she had asked questions about the ring. Fidel had really not been sure what he was on about, which could only be a good sign that he might be overreacting. He didn't tell Fidel why he was quizzing him, and the younger officer was gracious enough not to ask, but had since been shooting him encouraging smiles. Richard was now 98% sure his choice of a palladium gold alloy would be romantic enough. Though he did pop in and ask Molly (he had found out her name from the person who recommended the jeweller in the first place) her opinion as well, and she assured him that the very fact he had chosen the ring, and was taking such pains over doing so, was romantic enough.

His odd request of the jewellers meant when he returned the next weekend he had a mere three rings to pick from. Molly the assistant (who had invited Richard around for tea if he was ever in the neighbourhood – a sure sign the decision was taking him too long), explained _every_ possible detail she could about each of the rings. He pretended to consider everything she said seriously, then just picked the one he though was vaguely prettier than the other two. Molly beamed proudly at him when he made the choice. She then ruined his day by asking if he wanted an inscription.

The panic must have showed on his face, because Molly continued, "Of course an inscription could be done at any time Sir, you could come back when she says yes."

"If she says yes," he couldn't help correcting, but the young woman shook her head almost fondly at him.

"Oh please, everyone on this island knows she'd say yes! Just imagine, Saint Marie having its very own Duchess."

Richard had not really needed the added pressure of discovering the island of Saint Marie was following the "royal romance" with some interest. If she did say no, they would be talking about it for the next twenty years. Mind, if she said yes, they would still be talking about it for the next twenty years – but he'd be too happy to care.


	2. Time and Place

Chapter 2: Time and Place

A/N: I am really struggling with this, probably due to the lack of dialogue! As a consequence, I have sort of gone off on a side track at the end.

* * *

"Choose a date" was the next item. Surely this was the easiest item on the list?

The next couple of months actually presented two interesting possibilities. Two significant dates were coming up – Camille's birthday and the anniversary of the day that they…that their relationship commenced. Richard had a very good head for dates, he did after all have a history degree. He doubted that he would ever forget any of their anniversaries. However popular culture implied that forgetting anniversaries was something married men were very good at. What if it was some sort of peculiarity of being married that made men forgetful about dates? He couldn't guarantee he wouldn't be immune to this. If it shared a date with another date of importance, surely he would never forget it then?

The ring would be ready at the end of this week, so the first date was a week after that – Camille's birthday. He glanced back down at his checklist, and felt certain that if he put his mind to it he could complete his preparations in time. So, that was decided then.

* * *

Location, location, location. Right place, right time. That was his next concern. Where the hell should he actually do the proposing? He supposed one way of narrowing things down would be the idea of witnesses. Did he want to propose to Camille anywhere other people were likely to see, like a restaurant or perhaps at her birthday party? He briefly mused that the fact that other people were there might put more pressure on her to say yes, so as to spare his feelings. But then he immediately felt guilty that he was considering a proposal method that coerced her into saying yes. Besides, he didn't really want other people there, the pressure would increase for him as well. He was bound to be a nervous wreck even if it was just to two of them, God knows what he'd be like with everyone else watching.

No, he would have to pick a location with minimum chance of interruption. Well, there was always at home. But that was hardly romantic, was it? It would look entirely unplanned, but then that might be considered romantic. Except he'd never get away with claiming it was spontaneous because he would have a ring. Nope, home was definitely out of the question.

Ok, he supposed they could go for a nice walk along the beach. Camille loved doing that in the evening, and when he was trying to keep her happy he would join her. Long walks along the beach were never going to be on his list of things he enjoyed. He would of course admit that he loved her company more than he disliked sand, but he'd prefer if he could have her company in the absence of sand. He also had a sudden flashback to the time he got sand in his eye, and imagined that happening as he was trying to propose. He didn't put the beach on his mental 'out of the question' list along with home or Catherine's, instead he created a sub-list called 'only if I can't think of anything more suitable'.

Unable to reach a decision that night, Richard decided he did have enough time to leave it and come back to it. The next day, he found himself assessing nearly every place he saw as a potential location for the proposal. This sadly meant he paid very little attention to Camille on the drive to work, which put her in a bad mood with him. He should have known better really, he was hardly going to spot a nice spot by the side of the road to propose, was he? They were then called out by the fire brigade to have a look at an abandoned, burnt out vehicle on a cliff top. The view was pretty amazing, and it was obviously isolated since somebody was able to set fire to a car and get away with it. He stared at the car, frowning, he knew it would be removed in the next couple of days but the grass and surrounding plants were also singed – would they have grown back in time?

Clearly he had become lost in his thoughts again, because the next thing he knew Camille had punched him in the arm, "Richard? What is wrong with you? I've just asked you the same question three times!" She was clearly really annoyed with him. Ignoring her twice in one day was not good for their relationship.

"I'm sorry Camille, I, uh, have a lot on my mind. What did you ask?" He hoped she wouldn't want him to elaborate on what was distracting him, because he would never come up with a good enough lie in time.

She sighed, "They want to know if we need to collect any more forensic evidence or if they are ok to move the vehicle? I'm pretty sure we've got everything between us but it is your decision."

"Yes, that's fine," he agreed quickly. "I agree there isn't much more we can get from the scene."

She went off to tell the Fire Chief the news. Richard glanced to his right and noticed one of the firefighters had paused to take a drink of water nearby. Richard glanced over his shoulder to check Camille was out of ear shot and then hurried over to the man.

"You know about fire, right?"

The fire fighter paused from drinking his water to give Richard a funny look. Perhaps that was a bit of an odd question. "Yes Sir, certainly enough to do my job, why? Do you have a question about how the fire might have started or how long it lasted?"

"No, I was wondering if you knew how long it would be before the burnt grass and plants grew back."

The look of incredulity was back on the man's face, "I'm not a gardener, Sir."

"No, of course not, stupid question."

"What's a stupid question?" Camille asked from behind him. He should have kept a closer eye on her! He didn't turn around to face her straight away, instead panicking as he tried to come up with a reply. The fire fighter he had been questioning seemed pretty amused now, and decided to answer for him.

"He was asking how long the vegetation damaged in the fire would take to grow back," he informed Camille.

When he did face her, she was looking confused. "Is that relevant?" she asked.

"No, I was, you know, just concerned about the, uh, recovery of the local ecosystem."

She smiled and shook her head fondly at him, "You're always complaining but I know you care about this island more than you let on. Asking questions like that just proves it. Next thing you know you'll be running an environmentally friendly tourism company taking people on tours of the jungle and the volcano."

"Hey, you could run it with Prince Charles!" The fire fighter suggested. "He's into all that environmental stuff, isn't he?"

Richard resisted the urge to roll his eyes, it really did seem like there was nobody on the island left who didn't know he was a bloody Earl. But honestly, being an Earl didn't automatically make him best mates with the Prince of Wales!

"Oh he _has_ been on the phone a lot recently with some mysterious posh sounding man from England! Maybe they are already putting together the business plan!" Great, now he had a stranger _and_ Camille making fun of him.

"It's not Prince _Charles_," He told her, shaking his head in frustration. For some reason this statement made Camille's face light up like a kid on Christmas morning. "What?" He asked, puzzled as to what part of that statement was so pleasing.

"You said it's not Price _Charles_," Having his words repeated back at him did not help clear anything up, so he just continued to look at her. She rolled her eyes, "Prince _Charles_. You put the emphasis on Charles, rather implying it might _actually _be a prince!"

Whoops, he sort of had actually. Now Camille had caught him out, especially since his continued silence pretty much just acted as confirmation for her. "Oh my God! Which one is it then?"

He sighed, "Prince Edward."

"You're friends with Prince Edward! Why didn't you tell me this earlier?"

"We're not really friends…more associates. We both read History at Jesus College, Cambridge though at different times. He is involved in television production and is considering making a series on the history of various British Overseas Territories, we've simply been discussing logistics," he explained.

"Oh that sounds so exciting!" Camille gushed.

"Which is why I actually didn't tell you. If it gets out they'll be all sorts of pressure put on me to make that series happen by the Commissioner and Governor, but there is a good chance the funding might fall through."

"No, you didn't tell me because you thought I would tease you about knowing Prince Edward. Which I would have, and will now do," She grinned at him, and though Richard knew that had been a major contributing factor, he would never admit it. He would have to prepare himself for a visit from the Commissioner and Governor soon. They would be absolutely delighted by the prospect of a _Prince_ coming to the island to make a whole TV show! He rather hoped it would actually happen, so the attention would be off him. People were bound to find an Earl boring in comparison to a Prince.

As they were heading back to the jeep, Richard came to a sudden dead stop as he remembered something Camille had mentioned. The volcano! Now _there_ was an idea! Ok, he had still never been up there – but that just meant he had a valid excuse for them to go! And he trusted her when she said it was beautiful. Yes, the volcano was the right place!


End file.
